The alarm clock across from my piss-stained motel bed read 5:30am. I have always been an early riser; I like to watch the sunrise and drape my fingers over the dew-hooded grass. Granted, that was only in spring time; during the winter, mornings granted me the opportunity to watch the crisp air expel my warm breath back into the atmosphere. It was negative two degrees celsius outside, which was made known by the crack in the window across the room. My frosted toes peeked out from under the comforter to test the air temperature. It was cold. My front teeth chomped down on my already rugged bottom lip as I braced for the cold beyond the womb of blankets and pillows. Each muscle in my body creaked and ached with every step towards the bathroom; the cheap motel mattress did not do my juvenile arthritis any favors.

“Good morning ladies and gents! How is everyone doing?” The announcer on the radio spewed. “It’s a whopping negative two degrees outside today - perfect for staying inside and enjoying a nice cup ‘a hot chocolate!”

The bathroom mirror was stained with splatters of toothpaste and dry soap, which made staring at my reflection quite unsatisfying. I reluctantly brushed my teeth, washed my face with the provided granulated water, and dug all of the dry gunk out of my eyes while distracting myself with the radio’s voice.

“If you were planning on flying today, brace yourself! A snow storm is coming in from the northeast and many planes are getting’ cancelled. Check your flight and reservation!”

Most of the news and pop culture drama I received like white noise, nothing seemed as important as it used to be.

“Local authorities are still searching for the young university student who shot a teller at Merium Bank. The police chief reported that they are on her trail, and until further notice, advise you to remain in your homes unless absolutely necessary as she could be dangerous-”

An overwhelming sigh came over my entire body like a sharp wind. I pushed my pale, bony fingers into my jean pocket. Nothing but an old mint wrapper and paper clip. God damnit.

I pulled on a pair of jeans that I had been sporting for the past week and a half over the layer of stubble on my legs. A plain white t-shirt was wrapped around my torso,with a thin navy blue jacket draped on top. The tie around my wrist made its way to the back of my head, tying up loose ends of hair into an even looser ponytail.

Knock knock knock. It was housekeeping again. I didn't respond. A large sheet of paper slid under the door landing on the tips of my toes. The top read bill; I didn’t have the nerve to continue scanning the document. I knew that I’d accumulated a hefty bill during my stay and was not prepared to be guilty of yet another crime.

A jolt of energy rushed through my veins, prompting my hurried scamper towards the window. Backpack in hand and a bulging lump in throat, I was running out of time. I expeditiously tied the long tethered laces of my green chucks and peered out of the ground floor window. The coast was clear, but my conscious wasn’t. Desperate times, eh?

My bare hands grabbed the window frame as I heavily breathed down the edges to thaw the remainder of stuck ice. Push. I stepped onto the ledge and slithered through the tightly enclosed space into the suffocatingly stinging air.

My backpack was close to empty - four dollars, chapstick, a toothbrush, hairbrush, and pair of pajamas.

I hustled away from the dated, rotten motel at a pace far too quick to be categorized as a meandering stroll, but restrained enough to keep from being labeled as suspicious to any passers-by. The cobblestone streets were lined in empty plastic bags from the a**holes who just couldn’t wait to unload their groceries, and broken beer bottles next to the stiletto shoes of girls who had way too much fun last night. The stench of old perfume and petroleum from the nearby cars clouded the already foggy skyline. “Taxi!” I yelled, hoping to catch someone’s attention. For being six in the morning, there were quite a few people out, perhaps due to the alarming weather forecast. I raised my frostbitten hand into the air and gestured towards myself as a neon yellow vehicle pulled an inch away from my stomach.

“Hello Ms. How’re you this morning’?” The driver asked as I virtually threw my being into the back seat. He was donning a dark blue polo top and tan, khaki trousers; these garments certainly complimented his bushy, gray mustache.

“Doin’ fine. Yourself?” I replied, settling into the leather, heated seats.

“Swell. So, where’re we going’ today?”

“The airport. Tryin’ to catch a plane back home.”

A few bumbling seconds of exchanged glances passed until he switched gears and put the car into motion. “You know the airport is gonna be packed today,” he began. “Right before the holidays ‘n all, you better be careful,” I nodded. “I also heard a bunch ‘a flights are cancelled today. Cuza the weather,” I nodded once more.

The ‘port was a short drive away, but far too lengthy of a walk, justifying my need for a cab. Upon arrival, we passed dozens of smokers, depressed mothers, overworked business people, and misunderstood thieves- I was about to become one of them.

“Well, I hope that you have an excellent trip home honey!”

“Thanks. I’m sorry.”

A puzzled look swept across his face while I snatched my backpack and ran. I didn’t look back. I heard yelling and honking. People were saying “go after her” without the will or ethical motivation to do so themselves. Again, desperate times.

My spritely legs carried me across the lobby of the airport; ducking behind corners and security desks, I barely escaped the angry driver. My panting chest rose and fell at the pace of a sprinter in the last stretch of a marathon. I bit my lip and tried to blend in with the other normal folks surrounding me from all directions. The airport smelled of disinfectant, metal water bottles, and the snow-soaked shoes of nearly everyone who entered.

I began walking towards the boarding agent. I didn’t have to check a bag, so getting my ticket would be simple. I had already paid for it, so it was simply a matter of printing it out.

“Hello ma’am, where are we off to today?”

“Home. Wales.”

My saliva-covered lips glued to one another as I nervously stood waiting for my ticket. My rapidly shifting weight drew the attention of a purple-shoed man on the other side of the room. He waved in my direction, pointing to my greenish-tinted converse.

“Here you are, ma’am. Have a nice trip home!” I nodded, and immediately shifted my attention to the gangly - and frankly odd - man standing in the corner. He was clutching a small bag in one hand and a large wad of cash in the other.

“Why hello, pretty lady!” He exclaimed, beckoning the cash into the air.

“Hi? Were you gesturing to me over there?”

“Why, yes I was!”

“Can I help you?”

“Actually, now that you mention it, yes!” He had a boyish charm about him that was refreshing. “Here I have this package that has a gift for my daughter in it. She lives in Wales and I noticed that you were off there too! I unfortunately cannot get a flight as I am busy - but still want to send this to her. Her name is Melinda. And she could meet you right in the lobby of the Wales airport. Would you be a dear and take it to her?”

“Well, I don’t know if I real-”

“I’ll pay you,” his faced altered from excited to unrelentingly persistent. “I have five hundred right here in my hand - and I can give you the rest over PayPal.”

My lack of money justified being half-witted. It was situations like these that wound up getting me into trouble you know, because - desperate times.

“What’s the gift?”  I interrogated, considering his offer.

“Well, it’s a pair of shoes!” He handed off the rectangular box and steadily shook it so as to prove that the steady beat of an object hitting each side was a pair of shoes.

I typically would not have taken the box; but with the second hand on my watch anxiously ticking down and the security guard peering just seven feet away from us made my compulsive nerves kick in. I took the cash and the gift, stuffing both in my backpack and heading for security. At this point, I had already done at least three illegal things today, and I was praying that the armed guards would not be suspicious of my extra hundreds.

My shoes came off, belt and backpack in the tub, and then my helpless self trepidatiously sauntered through the metal detector.

That’s when I heard it. The terrifying, shell-shocking, ear-splitting beep indicating something illegal went through the detector. “Ma’am, your bag seems to have gone off. We are going to take a quick check.”

My furrowed eyebrows created four additional lines on my forehead. No! What was the gift? Was it drugs? Am I now a drug mule? What should I do? Where do I go? The woman reached into the bag clutching her hand around the bundle of money and neatly wrapped gift. I knew it was illegal. I knew I was set up. I knew if I told the story I would have hundreds of unpaid tickets, hotel rooms, meals and taxi rides on my record. It was over. So I ran. My body moved so fast that my periphery was blurred. The sirens and screams turned into white noise, and with each step my muscles ached because of that f***ing mattress. There was nowhere to go, but I might as well try at this point - desperate times, eh?